Wind-up Toys
by irite
Summary: They were Tony's toys, and he loved to play with them. They wound up so easily, but the result was beautiful.


**This popped into my head the other evening. Completely random.**

**Thank you to my lovely beta, dysprositos, for fixing my (numerous) mistakes and making me laugh so damn hard. And for the fucking lovely cover pic.**

**WARNINGS: language and a little bit of darkness here and there.**

* * *

They were Tony's toys, and he loved to play with them. They wound up so easily, but the result was beautiful.

Telling Natasha that Steve had been saying things about how she should be protected because of her femininity. Suggesting to Steve that Bruce was staying up too late, and that sleep deprivation weakened his control over the Other Guy. Telling Bruce that Thor had drunk all of his teas and denied it. Telling Thor that Clint was disparaging his intelligence. And Clint, well, Tony told Clint that Natasha had lied to him. She had slept with Pepper, one drunken night.

Of course, the only thing that was true was that Bruce did stay up late. But Tony had no idea how Bruce controlled the Other Guy. He also didn't give a flying fuck.

The other suggestions were culled from hours of observation, watching them via JARVIS. Finding their weak points and striking at them. Right where it hurt.

The resulting confrontation was epic. Natasha marched right up to Steve, and with a knee-fist combo, laid him out.

Bruce was in the room, starting to edge towards the door. He'd only wanted to inform Thor of the small point of Midgardian etiquette that dictated that when you used the last of something, particularly a foodstuff, it was your duty to report it, so that it could be put on the shopping list. But Thor wasn't present, and being around conflict tended to stress Bruce out.

However, Thor's sudden and magnificent entrance prevented him from leaving, as the demigod filled up the whole doorway.

Mjölnir in hand, Thor crossed the room in two great strides, popping the vent cover off and dragging out a protesting Clint with one hand. _Ooooh, if Thor's using his full strength, he must be _angry, Tony observed.

Bruce froze by the door, hoping desperately not to be noticed.

Thor dumped Clint on the ground, and Clint stumbled a bit, catching his balance. "I am _not stupid_! How _dare _you insult the intelligence of _Thor, Prince of Asgard_?"

By then, Clint had edged away, eyes fixed on Natasha, who stood over Steve with her arms crossed. She was clearly enjoying the high pitched noises he made.

Clint reached her and grabbed her arm, hissing something at her in another language.

"JARVIS, is that Hungarian?"

"Yes, sir. Would you like me to translate?"

"No, I'm getting the message pretty clearly." Their body language was pretty easy to read, Clint angry, Natasha confused, then pissed right back.

Thor moved over, shoving Natasha aside as he got in Clint's face again. She didn't like that, and bounced right back over, shoving him back.

Steve had recovered and gotten up. He approached Bruce, still frozen near the door.

Unfortunately for Bruce, he did not manage to escape Steve's notice, and was soon on the receiving end of a lecture about proper bedtimes, because Bruce 'looked tired.' Sleep deprivation apparently messed with Bruce's ability to manage the Other Guy (_Who knew?_). This endangered the inhabitants of the Tower. And the citizens of New York, and those of the state of New York, and the whole country.

Steve might have been exaggerating, just a little, but the whole thing was music to Tony's ears.

Bruce knew the best way to manage Steve was to appear remorseful. He bowed his head and apologized. Steve, satisfied, turned his attention to the brawling trio on the other side of the room.

Bruce, too, turned his attention to the opposite side of the room. After a minute of contemplation, he asked, "Um, Steve? Don't you think it's a little weird that we all started fighting at the same time?"

"Yes. Yes, it is." With that, Steve stepped over, breaking up the fight on the other side of the room.

_Shit. Fuckity fuck. Damn it_. Tony was typing frantically, locking things down and erasing all memories of his activities.

"JARVIS, get the suit ready. I'm going out. Initiate process alpha-thirteen-omega."

Tony left.

* * *

Steve separated the brawling trio. "Bruce just made an interesting point. Thor, why are you upset?"

"I heard that the Hawk was insulting my intelligence!"

"I didn't hear Clint saying anything negative about Thor. Natasha, Bruce?"

Both shook their heads 'no'.

"Clint, did you say things about Thor?"

"No, Cap, I didn't. And before you ask, I'm angry because Tony said that Tasha had lied to me about something...personal."

Steve raised his hands in surrender. "I'll let you two work that out yourselves, then. Natasha, why did you incapacitate me?"

Natasha was catching on to what Steve was doing, and she thought it was a good point. "Tony said that you had been making suggestions about the propriety of having me, a woman, fight."

"Untrue. Am I the only one who's hearing Tony's name popping up a lot?"

"No," Bruce responded slowly. He didn't want to think Tony capable of such manipulation, but of course the man could do it.

"JARVIS, can you shed any light on the situation?"

Silence.

"For fuck's sake, unmute!" The boys were so stupid sometimes.

"No, I cannot." This was the most succinct that any of them had ever heard JARVIS be, and they shared a wary glance.

"Where's Tony?" Bruce wanted to know.

"Mr. Stark is out."

"That confirms it, then, I'm afraid," Steve told the others.

Natasha swore in Russian under her breath.

Clint said, "Fucking son-of-a-bitch."

"Manipulative..." was Bruce's only comment.

Thor seemed murderous.

Steve simply looked sad.

* * *

They will confront Tony, who will placate them with lies and half-truths, dumping the blame anywhere it would conceivably stick.

The team has no proof, and they have to believe him.

* * *

Tony is the puppet master, and he cannot remain idle for long. After two weeks, he again twists the keys in their backs, slowly winding them up.

* * *

**Thoughts, please?**


End file.
